Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven serve me seven sins
Seven writhe for me
From Orient to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And sing from stern
But now I to play
For I to return to woodland ferns
Where and his wild huntress lay

Now the are turning, spurning the darkness
The great purgations of tours
Are but stills in time to the thrill Im once more
Heading to the of her English shores

The wind bickered in Satanic mill
flickered in deep thickets of trees
And mists clung in panic to vales
When Brigantia her soul to me

From to Bealtaine
to Samhain feasts
I her lament as seasons blent
Together a chimerical

Now the are turning churning in darkness
The celebrations of wars
Are but stills in time to the chill that climbs once
Dreading the red weddings on her English

are the rustic summers of my youth
Cruel winters cut their sacred
polished scythes that reap worldwide
Pitch black and forest smoke

And the hosts I saw there
of carrion law
Drove the of my forbears
To rove and rally more

One of her sons from the vast far
Come to rebuild
The rampant of the Leonine
over pestilent fields

Now the tidal are turning in darkness
The salvation of her sword
Shalt spill like from the hills to chines that pour
her beheadings on these English shores

For the that I saw there
of carrion law
Drove the of my forbears
To rove and rally once

This is a for England
its reticent doze
This is a waking for
hope and glory are regarded as foes